


He Wasn't Laughing

by EmeraldInALocket



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Future, Horror, Swearing, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 15:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldInALocket/pseuds/EmeraldInALocket
Summary: The general idea provided byRandom Words Generator.I had this vision, you know. But instead of spending one afternoon on writing the story, I spent the entire weekend on figuring out how this hypothetical virus might work =_=It was supposed to be funny.. and then it turned into this mess.. :c





	He Wasn't Laughing

**Author's Note:**

> The general idea provided by [Random Words Generator](https://www.textfixer.com/tools/random-words.php). 
> 
> I had this vision, you know. But instead of spending one afternoon on writing the story, I spent the entire weekend on figuring out how this hypothetical virus might work =_=
> 
> It was supposed to be funny.. and then it turned into this mess.. :c

The automatic door opened with a soft hiss and Jim stumbled into his quarters, throwing his black leather jacket in a general direction of a coat rack. He approached the glass cabinet in the far end of the room, scowling at its content. 

“You know what, Steve? You _disgust_ me.” He grabbed the tall bottle with clear liquor and took a long gulp. He winced, as it burned down his throat. Somehow he managed to stifle the urge to throw up. “You're the worst thing that has happened not only to me but to the entire planet.” 

Jim scoffed, falling gracelessly onto the sofa bed. He cradled the bottle close to his chest, blue eyes glistening with rage and unshed tears. 

“Tch! Don’t you give me that look, asshole!” He huffed, throwing the bottle at the wall. It crashed into small pieces, some of them landing on a big glass terrarium. “And now I’m stuck _here_ … _watching_ you… even though all I wanna do is to put you in a hydraulic press and watch you just..!” Jim presses his hands together forcefully, breathing heavily. “Maybe I’m just stupid, Steve… "He started again conversationally. "Maybe I don’t know enough about the world… maybe my three PhDs were just a waste of time and mean nothing to those dumb fuckers thAT SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN TO LOCK ME UP AND TASKING ME WITH SOMETHING SO FUCKING UNDERWHELMING!!!! WHO EVEN PUT THEM IN CHARGE, FOR FUCK’S SAKE?!”

He let out a long groan, rolling onto his back. He laid motionlessly for a few moments. Then the soft beeping noise came from a computer station. 

“God fucking dammit…” Jim whined, approaching the station with apprehension. “Might as well get this over with,” he muttered and took on his most monotone voice and began to recite what he had been reciting for over 7 months.

  


* * *

  


**Test subject:** HZVI-138 (otherwise known as Steve the Severed Head aka sue me Tony, it’s my report I can do whatever I want)  
**Date:** May 26th, year 2346, day 245

Skin tight, dark blue, no noticeable changes since the last report. Which was yesterday, Tony. Seriously, what did you expect?  
Noticeable advanced necrosis of the left side. Left eye socket empty, flesh around it peeling off and exposing part of the zygomatic bone. The other eye seems to be following my movements. The masseter muscles remain firm.  
There is no new sores and no tissue restoration had been observed. Test subject, despite not having a voice box is able to let out low noises and rumbling and still manages to be a little bitch.

  


* * *

  


Jim finished the recording, rolling his eyes. He moved the lid covering the terrarium and put his hand inside. 

“Ha! See, Steve? Now I made it official. You’re _officially_ a little bitch,” he gloated, poking the zombie head triumphantly. It only rolled to the side with a grunt, landing in its rotten tissue and jelly-like exudate with a wet squelch. “God, you’re disgusting. At least the movies got that right.”

  


* * *

  
Only few months have passed since the government managed to get this zombie virus epidemic under control. It was almost like in those early 20th/21st century vintage movies. Some even managed to turn some of them into cults, which Jim found hilarious and not that surprising.

What he did find surprising though, was that when he and his baby brother somehow got cornered by those creatures, Jim turned out to be immune. They found the antibodies. 

There was no antibodies found in Greg. And no amount of threatening and begging the doctors managed to change that. There was no vaccine. The immunity wasn’t hereditary. All this technology and it was but a pile of useless junk. 

Only yesterday he jeered at the mere idea of those movies providing any useful information. But now he was watching them obsessively. And as the days passed by, Greg’s skin gained a bluish hue, movements grew sluggish and stiff, eyes lost focus for longer and longer periods of time… 

He wasn’t laughing when his baby brother asked him to put a bullet through his head and heart while there was still time. 

He wasn’t laughing when his brother’s cool hands wrapped clumsily around his, encouraging him to pull the trigger. 

He wasn’t laughing when he wrapped his arms around the lifeless body, carefully lowering it onto the ground. 

He wasn’t laughing…


End file.
